Patronus
by aseret789
Summary: A friendship begins to develop between two students during their dark, fierce, and passionate 7th year. As a horrific war rages within and without Hogwarts, Lily and James must come to terms with sacrifice, betrayal, and above all love. Join the epic tale
1. September 1

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CHAPTER ONE

September 1

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Lily sat, pensive, on the edge of her bed. The London sky was an indifferent greenish gray, the air heavy; it looked as though it might rain. She ran her fingers tiredly through her hair still tangled from sleep, letting her hands pause to massage her temples. Her eyes opened again and Lily stared, hard, out the blank window. The stationary skyline, the still water of the Thames, the inactivity of the streets—the city wore a façade of peacefulness, but to Lily it seemed paralyzed, passively menacing.

_What an omen_, she thought grimly. She could already feel the strain that school would bring: the inevitable blood tension, the pressure to do well on her NEWTs, and the ceaseless, immature pranks of the Marauders. The gray-green sky seemed to project her feelings for the world to see. _The world can't see anything_, she amended herself, _the world is dead at this god-forsaken hour_.

She stood up and stretched languidly, resignedly. It was five o'clock and the train didn't leave until eleven, but Lily had to be out of the apartment in an hour. _They_ were coming, she thought bitterly. She dragged her feet into the kitchen to put on the teapot, and then she went into the bathroom to take a fast shower while the tea-water boiled.

Lily emerged from her shower pink-faced and decidedly more awake and optimistic. _Maybe it won't be so bad_, she thought. _Maybe this year will be better. Maybe_. She sipped strong dark tea and combed her hair, watching the pale sun wash the city with weak, half-hearted rays. It was time to go; she took a deep breath.

She had packed her trunk the night before, so she had only to slip on a pair of sandals and she was ready to go. She cast one last, long look at the apartment before the door shut with a definitive _click_.

_Ah well_, _the sooner I get there, the sooner I'll get out_. Then, because there was no elevator in the apartment building, Lily began the long and strenuous process of heaving her trunk down three flights of stairs. _This is the last year I'll have to do this…_

Lily tensed as she always did when she stepped onto the Tube, and she was relieved to find the subway car depressingly empty. It was strange, Lily realized as she rode the growling subway to Kings Cross Station, that she seemed to be the only student in the wizardly world who didn't think of Hogwarts with excitement. For her it was just a necessary step in her path towards becoming an Auror, when she would finally be able to make an impact on the world. She hated the persistent feeling of futility that Hogwarts instilled in her; how could her classmates maintain the same ignorantly cheerful attitude while the world was ever darkening around them? It just seemed—

But Lily's thoughts were abruptly cut short when the subway grated loudly to a stop, a disembodied voice telling nobody that they were at Kings Cross Station. Nobody but Lily. She tugged her trunk out onto the unwelcoming platform and shivered; it was cold for September.

She looked up at the big iron clock and saw that it was only 6:30; she had a lot of time to kill. Wrapping herself up in her dad's old, frayed herringbone jacket and pulling a ragged book out of the pocket, she folded herself up on a metal bench and tried to get comfortable. Minutes later she was immersed in _Gravity's Rainbow_, trying to escape into London during the blitz, the fictional madness of the book no escape and no excuse.

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People began milling into the train station about an hour after Lily arrived, but she didn't emerge from her captivated reverie until 10:45, when a hand pulled unceremoniously on her ponytail.

"Oh!" she said in surprise, dropping her book and sitting quickly upright. Her hands flew to her head, and she smacked the hand that was tugging on her hair. "Off."

"Sorry, Lily," said James with a grin that said he was not sorry at all. He bent down and picked up her book, pausing midway through straightening up again to read the title. "Pynchon?" he said, raising an eyebrow. "Heavy stuff."

Lily didn't answer him but she did reach for her book, letting out a sound of annoyance when James finished straightening up so that the book was out of her reach. "Please?" she said. "We're not even in school yet, give me a break. Can I please have my book back?"

"Can I borrow it when you're done?" asked James without making any move to give it back. It sounded as though the return of her book was conditional upon her response to his question.

Lily would not be coerced into lending the book to James. "Probably not," she said stoutly, standing up and wresting her novel from his hands. He looked halfway between crestfallen and amused.

"Well, I guess there's still a chance, then," he said.

"I guess." And with that, Lily stuffed the thick book into the pocket of her oversized coat and started heaving her trunk towards the barrier at Platform 9 3/4.

James stared after her, a hesitant look upon his face. "Do you want—" he began suddenly, starting towards her.

"No, I've got it," Lily said sharply, interrupting him.

"What made you think I was going to offer to get your trunk?" James asked slyly. "Conceited."

Lily sighed; it was five of eleven and she did not have time for James's antics. "What were you going to ask, then?" she bit out.

"…" James tried to think of something to say, and fast, for of course he _had_ intended to lend her a hand with her heavy trunk. He had wanted to show off how much he'd worked out over the summer.

Lily smirked. "Ah."

"No, wait," said James desperately; a Marauder was never caught in a lie. "I was just going to ask—do you want to go on a date with me?" The words tumbled out before he even had time to consider what he was asking. Or rather, he hadn't time to consider _who_ he was asking. And how she would take it.

Lily's eyes widened in shock and incredulity. "Excuse me? Were you serious?" Her tone was unintentionally caustic.

"Er…" James muttered, embarrassed by what he had asked in his haste to save face and even more embarrassed that he actually cared what she answered.

"Um…" Lily said uncertainly. Her voice softened, and she met his eyes. "I'm sorry, I…that wouldn't work for me."

"That's okay, no problem. Just thought I'd ask. I don't even…I should have thought abouit it more. It probably wouldn't work for me either, you know." A jumble of excuses came mumbling too quickly from James's mouth.

"Oh—okay," said Lily. "I'll see you at school, then." She turned and walked hurriedly, though awkwardly because of her cumbersome trunk, through the barrier and onto the Hogwarts Express.

James stood staring after her, his face beet-red. _Great impression to make on the first day of school_, he thought. _Desperate, bumbling, and inarticulate_. He shook his head and pressed his hands to his temples in much the same way that Lily had calmed herself earlier that morning. Then, lifting his trunk with ease, he too disappeared through the barrier at 9 3/4. He was glad to be back, despite his unfortunate exchange with Lily; he wanted to find his friends.

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On the train, Lily was relieved to find an empty compartment with relative ease. A few minutes later, the door was flung open and in came Emma like a harmless but very tumultuous storm.

"Lily!" she cried, flinging her arms dramatically around her friend. "I missed you. The summer was long and rainy."

"I know. I missed you too," said Lily earnestly. She was a bit of a loner, but school would have been truly unbearable if not for her unpredictable best friend.

It was strange forces that brought Lily and Emma together, for they couldn't have been more different. Physically, they were polar opposites: Lily was fair and red-haired, with wide-set green eyes half a candle too animated by sarcasm to pass for dreamy; Emma had dark hair and deep-set eyes that seemed haunted when she let her guard down, her beauty far less conventional than Lily's but no less profound.

Most significant than the girls' physical differences, however, were their divergent personalities. Lily's dry, sarcastic wit played against Emma's puns and more lighthearted jokes; Lily was dead focused on her future as an Auror and could be serious to a fault, while Emma, more apt to not take things serious enough, wanted to teach at Hogwarts after graduation.

They got along, though, because they shared a similar hard-wrought intelligence and flagrant disregard for people's expectations. Each had a stubbornness that seemed rivaled only by the other's, and they shared that rare ability to understand a whole conversation from one look.

_The best thing about Hogwarts by far_, thought Lily as she looked at Emma with a smile.

Emma smiled back mischievously. "I saw you talking to James this morning," she said, her words laden. "He was blushing like mad."

"Ah—was he, then?" asked Lily with badly feigned nonchalance; her own ears were reddening at the memory of that morning's encounter.

"Yes he was. And he was looking after you with a thousand thoughts in his eyes."

"Where were you to see all this?" asked Lily suspiciously.

"Saying goodbye to my Ma. Or, rather, trying to gently ease her away as she clamped me in a lung-crushing embrace." Emma noticed the look on Lily's face and quickly added, "I'm sorry, Lily, I didn't mean—"

"No, don't apologize," said Lily quickly. "It's no big deal." She deftly changed the subject: "I bet James doesn't even have a thousand thoughts in his brain, let alone his eyes," she said dismissively.

"Cynic," Emma said accusingly.

"Romantic," Lily shot back like an insult.

"Yeah, we are at that," said Emma thoughtfully. "We're odd girls, aren't we?"

"Yep," Lily agreed. She hoped the topic of James was dropped, and it seemed that it was, at least for now.

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James, in the meantime, found the other Marauders almost as quickly as Emma found Lily. A wide grin broke across his face when he opened up a compartment door to find the three familiar faces of his best friends looking up at him.

"Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot," James said in greeting, tipping an imaginary hat to each of them in turn.

"Prongs," said Sirius, standing up and slapping James on the back. "Good to see you, old pal. Long time, no see."

"How long has it been, ten minutes?" said James with a raised eyebrow. "Padfoot, we've seen each other every waking hour for the past two months." Sirius's family, shady wizards with a reputation for intimacy with the Dark Arts, had disowned him after Sirius and his mother had had a row when he was fifteen. The topic of dispute was the importance of pure blood, a subject about which Mrs. Ursa Black had unsurprisingly bigoted views.

Since that fateful fight, Sirius had lived with the Potters at their house in Godric's Hollow, and he'd never been happier. For the first time in his life, Sirius had a family who loved him fiercely—he would never have guessed that that family would be on the opposite side of the wizarding vendetta he'd grown up entangled in.

"Well, to me it feels like just an eyeblink of time," sighed Sirius dramatically.

"Oh, cut out the antics," said Remus, standing up to hug James. "I for one _haven't_ seen you guys all summer…though I think I've already had enough of Padfoot," he said the last part in a stage-whisper, throwing a none-too-subtle look at Sirius.

"I missed you too, Moony," said James. "How are the other Lupins?"

"Fine, fine. My mom wanted to say hello to you but she couldn't find you today at the station."

"That's because Prongs was flirting," said Peter. "With Li-ly."

"Eh?" asked Remus, looking at James for confirmation. James was looking at his feet with studied focus, and Remus took that as confirmation enough.

"I always thought that maybe you had a thing for her," said Sirius knowingly. "She's very purdy."

"Shut up," said James. "I was just…asking her a question."

"James," said Remus warningly, "what did you ask her?"

"Did you ask her to do you a _favor_?" asked Sirius suggestively.

"No!" James exclaimed. "I asked her…if I could help her with her trunk," he lied. He could feel his neck getting warm—he rarely lied to his friends—but luckily the other Marauders misinterpreted his blush.

"Aww," said Sirius. "Cute."

"But she said no," Peter added helpfully. James shot him a thanks-for-nothing look.

"She said no?" asked Remus. "Ouch."

"Were you eavesdropping on our conversation?" James asked Peter in irritation.

"No, I just saw you guys as I was going through the barrier. But I did notice that when she came through later, she was hauling her trunk behind her."

"Ah, good deduction," said Sirius approvingly. Then, to James: "Sorry mate. I didn't know you were that bad with the ladies."

"I'm not!" said James defensively. "She just—I mean, I just—I just got a little nervous and started bumbling. It was awkward; I don't blame her." _There_, James thought, _At least I'm telling the truth here_. It made him very uncomfortable to lie to his friends, and he was already regretting his initial falsehood; now he was going to have to stick to his original story.

"You started bumbling over offering to carry her trunk?" asked Remus incredulously. "Really?"

"Yeah, can we please just drop this?" replied James with a frown.

"Fine, whatever, mate," said Sirius.

"Sorry I brought it up," said Peter.

James paused, then his brow unfurrowed and he grinned at his friends. "It's good to be back together with you guys," he said earnestly. "Even if you are taunting me about my ineptness with the fairer sex."

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When there was only a half hour left in the train ride, Lily stood up and stretched her cramped legs. "Well, Emma, I guess I'll see you in the Great Hall," she said with a sigh.

"Oh, Head business?" Emma asked. Lily only nodded in reply. "I don't know why you're so down-and-out about being Head Girl," Emma said, furrowing her brow. "You've always wanted to be an Auror more than anything, and having Head Girl on your resume can only help."

"I know, I know," Lily agreed. "It's just that 7th year is busy enough without having to deal with Head duties and patrols."

"You know that I can pick up the slack whenever you need a break," Emma said sincerely. Then, cracking a smile: "I can whip those Prefects into shape."

"I know you can," Lily said with a smile. She paused then, as if unsure, before asking, "Say, Emma, do you know who the Head Boy is?"

"No, do you?"

"No. I was thinking it might be Joe Spinnet from Hufflepuff or Henry Lutgendorf from Ravenclaw."

"Or it might be Remus Lupin," Emma added. "He's cute."

"Sure," said Lily noncommittally; she didn't want the conversation to turn towards the Marauders, because she didn't want to tell Emma about the incident with James until she understood her own feelings on it. Before Emma could reply, Lily made for the door. "Well, I guess I'll find out soon enough!" she said cheerfully as she left the compartment.

She headed towards the front of the train, towards the exclusive Heads compartment, where she and the Head Boy would be receiving directions from Dumbledore. Lily was excited despite her griping about the added work; she was proud that she had been chosen for the enviable position of Head Girl—especially because she wasn't pure-blooded—and she knew that the title would be valuable when she applied for Auror training the following year. Her mood had certainly brightened since that morning.

She reached the compartment a few minutes early and pulled off her sweater and jeans, replacing her muggle apparel with the Hogwarts uniform. Upon settling her cloak around her shoulders, Lily felt strangely like a great weight had been lifted from her; she suddenly felt that however muddled and tense her feelings about the wizarding world might be, it was where she belonged.

Lily went to one of the dark wood benches in the compartment, sitting on her hands as she eagerly waited for the Head Boy. Although she respected Henry, Joe, and Remus, she hoped that the Head Boy was someone unexpected. God knew she needed some excitement, some unpredictability, to brighten up what looked to be a dull job.

Out the window of the Hogwarts Express, scenery bumped by like in an old movie. The sky, like her mindset, had brightened considerably over the past couple of hours. Her eyes followed a tree red and crisp with autumn as it shrank off in the distance. She let her heartbeat match the deep, regular thrum-thrumming of the train on its tracks…

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"Mhhm" came the sound of a throat clearing at the compartment door. Lily's eyes snapped open, though she didn't realize she had shut them in the first place. She looked up to see James Potter leaning coolly against the doorframe. She hated to be seated while talking to someone who was standing; it made her feel lazy, rude, and oddly inferior. Upon standing up, however, Lily managed only to lurch a few steps forward before she realized that her legs were completely asleep and she could barely walk.

"Ouch!" she said, wincing, as she fell ungracefully back onto the bench. "Oh, ow."

James looked on in amusement. "Were you asleep?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"N-no," Lily said a little too quickly. How had she fallen so suddenly asleep?—and in the _Heads compartment_, of all places. She groaned inwardly. On the outside, however, she put on a bright smile: "I was just resting my eyes."

"Why did you—?" James asked bluntly, gesturing towards Lily's legs.

"Oh…" she stretched her legs out and rubbed her hands on her thighs to try to revive them. "My legs just fell asleep. Sitting in one place for too long, I guess."

"Ah." James looked at her appraisingly for a moment and then seemed to come to a decision. "Can I sit down?"

Lily gave him a strange look; he was acting as if nothing had happened that morning at the train station, or at least he was doing a good job of covering up the awkwardness on his part. She was not doing such a good job. "Um, actually, Dumbledore's going to be coming in soon to talk to me and the Head Boy," she said.

He gave her a look.

"I'm Head Girl," she added quickly, realizing that she hadn't put on her badge yet.

"I figured," he said. "You're the smartest girl in our year."

She blushed. "Do you really think that?"

"Well, the fact that you're sitting in the Heads compartment was also a tip-off," James replied glibly.

Lily blushed this time because she was embarrassed about her initial blush and because she had thought he was being serious. For a moment, his compliment had made her feel really good. _Bastard_, she thought.

When Lily didn't reply, James spoke again. "So I can sit here?"

"No. I thought I was clear before: this compartment is only for me and the Head Boy," she said, irritated.

"Hm, I thought _I_ was clear before as well: I'm the Head Boy."

Silence. Lily stared at him. He stared back at her, then he cracked a tentative smile.

"_What_?!"

"Surprise?" he said meekly. "Sorry…not who you were expecting, am I?"

"Er, no. Sorry. I just didn't think—I mean, you're always goofing off—your homework—I just thought—not a prefect—I thought Remus—Joe, Henry—" Lily was having a hard time articulating herself. She took a deep breath. "No, I didn't expect you to be Head Boy. New development. So."

"So," James agreed.

"Was I really asleep?"

"Sure looked like it."

"How long were you looking at me?" she asked accusingly.

"Just for a second," James lied. "Then I cleared my throat."

"Good boy."

"Head Boy," he corrected her cheekily.

Lily stood up and shook James's hand. "Head Boy," she said with a smile. If she was going to have to work with him, they had might as well get along. She looked awkwardly away and then glanced back at him; his neck was flushed red and, in contrast to her own slightly forced smile, his was genuine and stretched from ear to ear.

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Author's note: I stole one line for this chapter almost verbatim from Neil Gaiman's _American Gods_ and another from Michael Chabon's _Kavalier and Clay_. If you can name one or both of them, I'll be wildly impressed; they're pretty obscure. These chapters will probably all be long-ish (this one being on the shorter end of the spectrum), and consequently they will probably be less frequent than is desirable. I'll do my best. In the meantime, review and then listen to Bob Dylan's _Lily, Rosemary, and the Jack of Hearts_. Love, Aseret.


	2. September 1 2

LostConscience: You were my first reviewer for this story, thank you! And yes, I love the awkward tension that Lily and James have to deal with. Thanks for the encouragement.

Telwyn Dubois: I'm not sure yet if this story will be following OotP—depends on whether incorporating that information into my plot will be beneficial to the story or not. And incidentally, _never_ stop writing. Criticism is one thing, but flames that are solely hurtful should not influence your writing at all. Do _not _listen to such irrationality. And thanks for liking Chapter 1!

Dans-girl-4ever: This story will not wither away! There may be lengthy breaks between chapters—like this past one—but that's just so I can work out each chapter just the way I want it. I appreciate your heartfelt encouragement; words like that really restore my faith in my writing.

ann-boleyn: Thank you, and I understand entirely that you want to get the scope of the story before you say more. Unlike my other story, I'm spending a lot of time in this one working out plot twists and back-stories and evil characters. It should be excellent.

Chantela: Thanks for recognizing what I'm beginning to do with Lily; namely, that I want to make her different from the typical straight-laced and studious girl that she's usually portrayed as. I'm trying to develop her as a very real character. I'm so glad that you noticed.

secludeddark: Ah, the theories begin to emerge… Of course I can't tell you. But you're on the right track; I'm not sure how many people even picked up on the fact that something was not right at the beginning—I tried to keep it very subtle. This will eventually be a very important part of Lily's history.

CandyCaneLane: I'm glad you're reading my other story, but I am on hiatus from The Strangest Courtship for a while. I'm focusing instead on this one, in which the characters and plot will be much more deeply developed. Thanks for reading and I hope that I don't disappoint.

FallenFlower: Thank you for mentioning characterization!—that was one of my primary objectives when I began this story; I want you to really feel like you know Lily after a short while, because I for one can't stay with a story if the characters aren't excellent. If you have suggestions or criticism in the future, don't hesitate to let me know!

Alatariel Linwe Narmolanya: You're such a reliably cheerful reviewer—thanks for another encouraging and complimentary review.

child-of-scorpio: I'm glad you enjoyed it and… I did not update soon, obviously, but despite my busy schedule this year I _will_ be making time to work on this story as much as I can. I hope you like this chapter too.

Also, to the four of you lovelies who reviewed Chapter 2 before I hastily took it down again: Thank you so much for your prompt and kind reviews, but I posted the chapter in a hurry and without reading it over; when I looked back soon after I realized that it was doing nothing to further the characters or the story, and it was really the wrong sort of chapter to come next. So I hope this one is not a disappointment compared to the _other_ Chapter 2.

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CHAPTER TWO

September 1 - 2

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The remainder of the train ride was uneventful, and Lily quickly rejoined Emma for the carriage-ride up to the castle. The sky was bruised and eerily lit; it seemed illuminated by some unseen source, for the sun had long since set, and yet the grounds remained dark as night. _The nights have never been normal_, Lily realized with an odd thud in her stomach, _Not since Voldemort came to power_.

After six years of Hogwarts feasts, Lily and Emma knew all of Dumbledore's speeches by heart and had long since mastered the gist of the Sorting Hat's ditties. Having come to the decision that their time was better spent catching up than it was braving the tedium of the Sorting, they broke away from the group and tiptoed off towards the dorms instead of crowding into the Great Hall with the rest of their schoolmates.

"So, who's Head Boy?" Emma asked as they climbed the ancient stone stairs towards Gryffindor Tower.

"James Potter," Lily said inscrutably.

Emma paused in expectation, but Lily did not go on.

"And…?" Emma prompted. When Lily made no move to answer her, Emma put on a serious expression and stroked her chin like Professor Trelawney during dream analyses. "And how do you _feel_ about that, my dear?" she deadpanned, her manner a perfect imitation of the Divination professor.

Lily couldn't help but laugh. "I don't know," she said honestly. "You know, I would have thought that having James Potter—I mean, _James Potter_, of all people!—as Head Boy would have upset me, but…" Lily shook her head as if to clear it. "I just don't know. I'm sorry—I'm not trying to be mysterious. I haven't figured it out for myself yet."

"Figured _what_ out?" Emma asked in exasperation. "You don't always need to be so cryptic, you know. You can just talk to me."

"I said I don't know," Lily replied, her face suddenly stony.

Emma never knew what to do when Lily became like this; most of the time Lily was easy-going and good-natured, but every once in a while someone would say something that made her close up like a jack-knife, her face suddenly locked and apathetic, devoid of its usual animation. A few times, Emma had tried to push Lily to explain what was wrong, but by now she knew that these moods meant that Lily needed quiet.

Accordingly, Emma didn't say anything more until the girls reached their dorm at the very top of Gryffindor Tower.

"I know we were going to catch up about the summer," Lily began apologetically, "but I'm really tired, Emma. Can we do this tomorrow?"

"Of course," Emma said; she'd known ever since Lily had stiffened on the way up that the girls'-night was out. She didn't mind; both she and Lily had their own peculiarities that were not inexplicable, but far too deeply embedded to explain. Their friendship was strong in part because they understood that not everything can be talked about and that good intentions can't heal all wounds.

Since the war began, nearly everyone had wounds of one kind or another. Some were physical, but far more common and far more painful were the mental or emotional wounds that afflicted too many of the students at Hogwarts. Voldemort's plans had been brewing for half a decade, but for much of that time the threat had only existed in brief though fearsome flashes: a hooded witch with fangs and dilated red eyes, a Ministry official killed mysteriously in the night, piles of gold snatched from the safest Gringotts vaults.

Something was wrong; an uneasy feeling, a dark sea change was swelling in the wizarding community, but Voldemort's plans had only truly surfaced in the middle of Lily's sixth year. The first few weeks of attacks were horrifying and continually shocking, but after a time the students at Hogwarts learned to numb themselves against the atrocities of Elsewhere. A second-year with haunted eyes and uncombed hair was just another victim, another example of how death could destroy the lives even of those who survive. The rising death toll on the front of the Daily Prophet was just a number, just some runes that no one wanted to comprehend.

But the students numbed themselves in different ways; none were able to simply ignore the terrors that raged on outside the safe walls of Hogwarts. Emma thought sometimes that perhaps Lily's silent spells were brought on when her barriers broke down, when the waves of fear and horror built up so much as to slop over her walls, into her heart.

Emma knew that Lily would be shell-shocked for the rest of the night, and so in silence the two girls stepped out of their robes and into their inviting beds, welcoming the solace of sleep.

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But solace did not come to Lily in sleep.

She tossed and turned fitfully in bed; her dreams were filled with nightmares that were founded more in truth and memory than in fearful imagination. She gave up on rest at five, instead focusing her mind on the strange alternate world of _Gravity's Rainbow_. She could not wait for the sun to rise and bring some reality, some sanity, to her thoughts.

At last the sun did rise, bringing with it a dose of hope and happiness that Lily had felt vacant without all night. Mentally rejuvinated if slightly somber from the shreds of darkness and fear that still clung to her, Lily stood up from bed and stretched her limbs precisely at seven.

"Rise and shine, Emma!" she hollered from the bathroom. Lily had just emerged from the shower refreshed in more ways than one, and she smiled as she brushed her red hair in front of the mirror.

"Eurgh!" was Emma's response; she was not a morning person.

"Sorry about last night," Lily continued. "You know how I get sometimes."

"_Everyone_ gets that way sometimes," Emma corrected. "It's no problem."

"Thanks. Come on; up. I'm hungry."

Emma groaned in agreement, and within ten minutes the two girls had made their way down to the Common Room.

"It's empty!" Emma exclaimed. "What time is it?"

"It's only 7:30, but I guess most people got up early today. First day of classes."

"Hmph. We'll be glad for the extra sleep once we get the homework for our NEWT classes," Emma said. "Speaking of which," she turned curiously at Lily, "how many NEWTs are you taking this year?"

"Um," Lily blushed. "What about you?"

"I'm taking NEWT Defense Against the Dark Arts and Arithmancy. Now don't skirt the question."

Lily mumbled something.

"What?" Emma asked, craning her neck towards Lily so she could hear better.

"I'm taking all NEWT classes," Lily said. "It's just, the Ministry's already selective enough about taking on new Aurors, and I'm a girl, and muggleborn. I just really want to impress them."

"Oh Lily," Emma sighed. "You are going to have one hell of a year. All NEWTs?—that's bloody insane. And yet, I'm not very surprised."

"I knew you'd say that."

"But stop worrying so much about your career; the Ministry couldn't possibly turn you down."

"They could. They don't even need to have a reason, they can just reject you flat-out."

"Yeah, if you're _not qualified_! Lily, you're one of the best students in our class and you're definitely the best in Charms. You could probably get into the Auror program today if you applied."

"You're too optimistic," Lily said, but she was grinning. Emma had a way of cheering her up, and she knew that her friend was speaking in earnest. She just wished…

She wasn't one to shy from a challenge, but it seemed to injust that people like James Potter—smart, granted, but also a smart-aleck and spoiled to death—could glide into any career they chose based on their blood, their money, their sex. Each of these objects was a continual hurdle for Lily to overcome, and she resented it.

So lost was Lily in her reverie that when she looked up she was surprised to find herself standing, with Emma, at the doors of the Great Hall. Her stomach rumbled loudly, pushing aside any thoughts not associated with breakfast.

"My dear," said Emma in a prim voice, pulling open the massive dark wood doors, "be my guest." And with that the two girls stepped into the Hall.

All their senses were assaulted immediately upon their entrance. Smells of eggs and toast and ham and pumpkin juice (how Lily longed for some strong coffee!) roiled thickly through the air. The sounds of chattering and chewing and laughing clashed chaotically; the raucous noises from Gryffindor table collided with the cryptic and conspiratorial sounds of Slytherin. Candles and torches flickered brightly on the tables and along the walls, and the enchanted ceiling-sky above was the color of television tuned to a dead channel, bright and obnoxious.

Lily stopped stock-still. She turned to Emma, who seemed to read her thoughts.

"This," Emma vocalized, "is overwhelmingly exactly how I remember it."

Lily nodded, and a hundred eyes followed the movement of her neck. Hogwarts may not have changed in appearance, but Lily certainly had. The changes were subtle; they were so subtle, in fact, that Lily herself was unaware of any change. She was a couple inches taller; she had gained a little weight, her formerly boyish figure grown narrower at the waist and curvier in other places; her face had lost its baby fat so that her cheekbones and jawline emerged delicate and defined; her hair was longer, glossier, highlighted naturally by the sun; her face had some summer color and a few pale freckles.

Lily may not have noticed the change, but the male population of Hogwarts had.

"Let's sit down," Lily said hurriedly to Emma, noticing the eyes trained in their direction. "I didn't think that being late would garner us so much attention."

Emma sighed to herself, amused at Lily's obliviousness to the real reason for the staring. _Better for her not to know_, Emma decided. _It would just make her self-conscious_.

The two girls found empty seats near the end of Gryffindor table and immediately set to work demolishing all the food within the vicinity of their seats; they hadn't had dinner last night, and they sure as hell weren't going to miss another meal.

A few seats down, the Marauders were talking amongst themselves. Ever since Lily sat down, James had been catching glimpses of her red hair through his peripheral vision, and it was taking all his focus not to turn and stare straight at her.

"James—Prongs?" came Sirius's voice from beside James. "Did you hear anything I just said?"

James shook his head no.

"Well then," Sirius continued, "if you could drag your attention away from Lily for _one minute_—"

"Hey—what?!" James cried defensively. "I wasn't—"

"Sure," said Remus appeasingly. "Fine, sorry James, you were _not_ trying to look at Lily out of the corner of your eye. Now could you please listen?"

"Sorry," James grumbled; with some effort, he turned his full attention to his friends.

"The full moon this month is the 13th," Sirius said in a low voice. "So we have to stay out of trouble for a few days in advance. We don't want to land in detention and we definitely don't want Malfoy keeping track of our whereabouts."

"Right," James replied, but he wasn't really listening. His eyes were trained on the Slytherin table, specifically on Marcus Malfoy.

"Hey man, Sirius just said _stay away_ from Malfoy; why have you got that belligerent look in your eye?" Remus asked warningly. He too looked over towards the Slytherins. "Ah, I see." Malfoy was pointing at Lily and talking conspiratorially amongst his friends; his expression was lustful.

"Bastard," James muttered.

"Don't pick a fight," Peter asked pleadingly. "Not without direct provocation, please."

James's fingers were twitching unconsciously for his wand. "Fine," James replied.

Just then, Malfoy stood up and stretched his lean Quiddich body. He winked at one of his friends before swaggering over to the Gryffindor table. Lily and Emma, still intently devouring their breakfast, were oblivious. James tensed.

Then Lily felt a warm hand on her shoulder and a breath on her temple as Malfoy leaned down to her. "Alright, Lily?" came a rich voice, so deep she could barely discern his words, rolling into her ear. Startled, Lily spun around so quickly in her seat that she knocked over a goblet of pumpkin juice in the process, the orange liquid spilling onto her clean robes.

"Oh, dammit!" Lily cursed, reaching for a napkin. "What the—" she began, turning to face the person who had caught her so off guard. When she saw Malfoy, her voice gained a shred of stoniness, but the anger that had been in it disappeared. "Hello, Marcus."

"Good morning, Lily."

"You really startled me, speaking all of a sudden like that. Sorry, let me just…" Lily indicated the mess of pumpkin juice and paused to wipe at it with her napkin.

"I'm sorry; let me," offered Malfoy in his thick, laden voice. He reached for the napkin, and his hand knocked Lily's. All of her muscles tensed, but she fought to keep her voice light. Gently but firmly, she pushed his hand away.

"No, I'm alright. Thanks for offering, but it's not your responsibility. I'm just clumsy."

Malfoy stared at Lily like he didn't know what to make of her, and she blushed under his gaze; it felt like he was violating her, just from that stare…

"You're not clumsy," Malfoy said after a minute. "You're beautiful. Would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend?"

Lily looked at him in astonishment. She fought to keep her revulsion from reaching her expression, but a shadow of it danced in her eyes. "I…I don't think," she stumbled. "I really don't think that maybe that work. I think maybe that wouldn't work, I mean. I mean…no. I'm sorry, Marcus. I just don't have time for a relationship, what with NEWTs this year and all my classes…" Her voice trailed off and she took a bite of toast to distract herself from the mortifying scene that was playing forth.

A lascivious smile crept onto Malfoy's lips. "I didn't say anything about a relationship. It could be a one time thing; you know: Wham, bam, thank you ma'am."

Lily choked on her toast when she caught his insinuations. She stood up abruptly, her knees knocking hard against the table. "You know, I have to change these robes before Transfiguration, so I really have to go. I'm sorry, Marcus."

She made a hasty exit. James shot a glance at his friends and Remus gave a barely perceptible nod. That was all the encouragement James needed; he too leapt from his seat (albeit a bit more gracefully than Lily had) and disappeared out of the Great Hall.

Emma had her hands pressed hard against her temples, her eyes clenched shut in frustration or fury.

Malfoy was already back at the Slytherin table, talking in low voices amongst his classmates.

Sirius looked at Remus and Peter. "What," he said. "The hell. Was that."

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Author's note: When I think about the horrors that Voldemort wreaks and the state of the war in general, I always think of the beginning of Yeats's poem "The Second Coming":

Turning and turning in the widening gyre, 

_The falcon cannot hear the falconer;_

_Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold_

_Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,_

_The blood-dimmed tides are loosed, and everywhere_

_The ceremony of innocence is drowned._

_The best lack all convictions, while the worst_

_Are filled with passionate intensity._

The fury of it, the chaos and the "passionate intensity" of the Death Eaters—it all strikes a powerful chord with me. Also, I stole a sentence from William Gibson's _Neuromancer_; can you spot it? As always, please review!


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